LITMIR.BIZ

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eye rolls. ‘Bye Angela, see you in the morning.

      ‘I’d forgotten how lovely it is here,’ said Alan as they strolled arm in arm around the nave of the ancient stone building. ‘No chance of bumping into any kids from school, either.’

      ‘Always a bonus,’ agreed Carrie with a sigh, drinking in the calm, quiet atmosphere. It seemed difficult to believe the cathedral was a step away from the busy high street.

      Above them, the sun shone through the rose-stained glass window glistening with brilliant colour.

      ‘Now, do you fancy the guided tour? There’s a highlights tour in a few minutes.’

      Carrie checked the time on her phone. They’d already been wandering around for an hour. How much more was there to see?

      ‘Why don’t you do the highlights tour and I’ll sit in one of the pews?’ She’d be quite content to gaze up at the window. ‘I can wait for you but I don’t think I’m up for a tour. My brain’s turned to mush.’

      ‘Why didn’t you say? Come on let’s go to the refectory. Tea and cake.’

      ‘No, Al. You stay. I don’t mind.’

      ‘No,’ he took her arm in a gentle but insistent grip. This was forceful Alan. Not exactly a force to be reckoned with, he did everything with calm understatement. ‘We can come back here any time. Besides cake solves everything.’

      The Cathedral café, Abbots Kitchen, offered a very fine selection of cake.

      ‘Excellent. Coffee and walnut. Perfect. What do you fancy? I’m starving.’

      She burst out laughing as the woman behind the counter served him a huge slab.

      ‘You’re always starving. It’s all the cycling.’ She gave him a quick, teasing glance. ‘You’ve been out this morning already, haven’t you? What are you like?’ He put her to shame, not that he ever bothered about her single-minded aversion to exercise.

      He responded with an impish grin. ‘I’m making sure I’ll be in peak shape for the holiday.’

      ‘Rather you than me.’ Carrie shuddered. She couldn’t think of anything worse than a week toiling up and down the mountain roads of the Alps.

      ‘I’ve been thinking. You know we were talking about perhaps going to Cornwall or Wales later on in the holidays.’

      ‘Yes, I think I’d prefer Cornwall, bit more chance of sunshine.’ With the whole summer break in front of them, the holidays had seemed ages away and they hadn’t booked anywhere yet and now she had Angela’s offer to think about.

      ‘Well …’ Alan looked a little sheepish. ‘I was thinking … that maybe we should wait and save our money … go somewhere in the half term in October …’ A flush ran up his cheeks and the coffee cup in his hand shook, ‘… for maybe a honeymoon.’ He put the cup down in its saucer with a clatter and started fumbling in his pocket, tugging as the lining came out, ejecting a red velvet box onto the floor. It tumbled under the table, coming to rest beside her foot.

      Biting back a smile, she bent to retrieve it.

      Alan sighed and grinned. ‘I messed that one up, good and proper.’

      Carrie laughed and handed it back to him. ‘Possibly not your finest hour. Do you want to start again?’

      ‘I’m not sure you’re going to have me, after that fine example of my total ineptitude in the romance department.’ He shook his head and pulled a self-deprecating face. ‘I had it all worked out. Planned. I was going to go down on one knee on the lawn outside, but there were too many people. I got nervous. So I decided I’d do it later … and then it came out. All wrong.’

      He twisted the box in his hands as he spoke and then, with a start, glanced down, as if suddenly remembering what it was. Placing it on the table, he took her hand, serious now.

      ‘Carrie Hayes. Will you marry me?’

      No fuss. No drama. Just Alan. Quiet, steadfast and true. She’d had drama and fuss and look how that had worked out. With Alan, she knew exactly where she was, while it might not be thrills and spills, his gentle love was like a warm hug. He would always be there for her.

      ‘Alan Lambert. Yes, I will.’

      They stared at each other, smiling for a minute.

      ‘Oh, you need this.’ He opened the box and started to take out the ring and then half way through changed his mind. ‘Here, you’d better do it. I might drop it and then the damn thing will go flying across the room and get lost before you’ve ever seen it.’

      Carrie took the open box and went to take the ring out.

      ‘Don’t worry if you don’t like it. I can take it back. If it’s not right. And say so, won’t you. If you don’t. Like it, that is.’

      She leaned over the table and kissed him to shut him up. ‘Shh. It’s beautiful.’ And it was. A single solitaire diamond in an elegant raised setting. She handed it to him. ‘Go on.’

      As he slipped it on to her finger with a shaking hand, a warm rush of love filled her heart. He was a good man. He’d look after her. Be a good partner. She’d never have to worry about him leaving her. ‘We’re engaged,’ she said with a giggle, suddenly giddy and light-hearted. It seemed rather staid and sober to be sitting there when they should be bouncing around with excitement.

      ‘We’ll need to talk about some of the practicalities,’ said Alan, taking her hand and tracing around the ring on her finger. ‘Like where we’re going to live. My flat’s a bit small …’

      ‘And bachelory,’ added Carrie with a smile.

      His face fell. ‘It’s not that bad. I was going to say, I know it’s small but I think we should live there. Think how much money we could save, with you paying half the mortgage and the bills. I mean, we could carry on, but I think getting married makes a lot of financial sense. You know, pooling our resources. Later maybe, we could think about getting a bigger place. I’m loathe to throw my hat into the ring for the Head of Department job and have to suck up to Johnson.’

      Alan was a brilliant teacher, but he had no ambition when it came to his career.

      ‘Actually, I’ve got some money set aside.’ Carrie wasn’t sure that she wanted to start married life in Alan’s flat. ‘When my parents died they left their house to me and Angela. She bought the house with her half of the money and my rent money covers the mortgage, but I still have my half of the proceeds.’

      Alan sat up. ‘I’m marrying an heiress. Well that’s even better. I had no idea.’ His forehead wrinkled. ‘Hmm, well that will put us in a better position financially.’

      The moment was in danger of going flat with this boring talk of jobs, mortgages and money.

      ‘Come on,’ she grabbed his hand.

      ‘But I haven’t finished my …’

      She dragged him out of the café, pulling him along by his hand, bumping into chairs as they went. She wanted to run, jump up and down and get rid of some of the energy crackling through her before it burst out through her skin. Her arms prickled with it.

      As soon as they emerged outside, Alan tugged back, slowing her to a halt.

      ‘Carrie!’ he said, smiling down into her face with a slightly reproachful shake of his head. ‘You’re crazy.’ He lifted her hand and kissed it.

      ‘Yes. Crazy. Alive. Happy.’ She grinned up at his familiar face, her cheeks stretched a tad wider than comfortable, ignoring a little voice telling her rather peevishly that she wasn’t as happy as last time.

      Happiness last time had propelled her down Primrose Hill, running too fast and giggling so hard she could barely breathe, but it didn’t matter because there wasn’t room in her chest to take a breath with all

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